


Learn the Steps

by MsLadySmith



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 20:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12373680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLadySmith/pseuds/MsLadySmith
Summary: FB Writing Prompt: Sherlock gives dancing lessons





	Learn the Steps

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt reminded me of when I taught my step-brother how to dance before Homecoming... including him drawing all the drapes closed so no one would know he was dancing with his sister. It was sweet.

"I do not need to learn to dance."  Mycroft scowled.

"Seriously, Mycroft," Sherlock grinned.  "John's wedding is next week.  If you are going to attend a wedding reception, you should at least be able to dance without looking like an epileptic penguin."

Mycroft rolled his eyes.  "Very well, then.  Can we at least lock the door?  If Mrs. Hudson walks in to find me dancing with my little brother, I will be mortified beyond recovery."

Sherlock was already there, flipping the deadbolt, then walked to the stereo.  He fumbled through the CDs, and found a simple classical album.  "We'll start with a waltz."

"I know how to waltz,"" Mycroft huffed.   "I learned that when I was 12."

"When was the last time you waltzed?" Sherlock queried, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk.

"When I was 12."  Mycroft stared at the floor, cheeks flushed.

"Then call this a refresher course.  Once you have mastered this, we'll move on to a fox trot."

Mycroft sighed heavily.  "Let's get on with it.  I'll lead, of course."

"Of course," Sherlock nodded, stepping up to his reluctant dance partner, putting his left hand on Mycroft's right shoulder.  Mycroft straightened, taking Sherlock's right hand in his left, and resting his right hand in the small of Sherlock's back.  Lehár's _Merry Widow Waltz_ began streaming from the speakers.  

Mycroft did remember the rudiments of the box step, and after a few beats, was easily whisking Sherlock around the room.  Mycroft imagined his partner as a beautiful young woman... her pale yellow gown floating through the air... her long brown hair swept up... her cherry red lips smiling nervously...  her soft brown eyes...

Suddenly, Sherlock stopped.  His eyes searched Mycroft's questioningly.  "Distracted?"

"Imagining a different dance partner makes dancing with you a little less... awkward, brother mine," Mycroft smiled weakly.  "Besides, I doubt I will be dancing with _you_ at the reception."

Sherlock laughed.  "Definitely not.  Tongues would be wagging all night."

Mycroft was a quick study, as anyone would expect of the Holmes boys.  Over the next few hours, they progressed through several ballroom dance styles.  While neither of them would win an international dance competition, they could certainly would not look foolish on the dance floor. 

* * *

_One week later_

Having spent the better part of the day running negotiations, Mycroft was finally able to extricate himself from the diplomatic morass that was his job, and head to John and Mary's wedding reception at Goldney Hall.  He slipped unseen in the far door, just in time to hear Sherlock's newly composed violin piece, a tribute to John and Mary.  His brother's skill with the violin was exemplary, Mycroft mused.  It pained him that he had never had a talent for music, instead choosing to focus on his painting. 

At the end of the piece, Sherlock spoke briefly, a heartfelt statement to the newlyweds, and the guests moved onto the dance floor.  The string quartet started to play.

Mycroft scanned the room.  At a table off to one side, he found Molly Hooper, glowering after an apparent disagreement with her date, a tall young man who was faintly reminiscent of his brother, though definitely not as bright.  Mycroft walked over to her.

"Good evening, Miss Hooper," Mycroft said softly.  She looked up at him with wide eyes.  "May I have this dance?" He extended his hand, and she tentatively took it.  They strode onto the dance floor, her pale yellow gown dusting the floor behind her.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Mycroft whispered in her ear. “I won’t be stepping on your toes tonight.  I’ve taken lessons from a high-functioning sociopath.”


End file.
